kill me quickly (then tear me apart)
by gracelessheartlines
Summary: one day, they realize, they're meant to kill each other / "and they're just waiting to regret it"


_title_: **kill me quickly (then tear me apart) **  
_fandom_: the hunger games  
_characters_: cato/clove  
_information_: pre-series to games | 770 words | oneshot  
_summary_: one day, they realize, they're meant to kill each other.

_( darling heart, i loved you from the start )_

* * *

**I_._**

The edict comes sometime after the red haired girl for District Five drops a few berries into her mouth and the canon booms for the penultimate time.

(_whatever happened to the: __ "it's over because we've won, we've both won," that almost escaped from his bloodstained lips?)_

Face to face, lethal blades pointed and hearts heavy, nothing in their years of training have prepared them for a declaration of this kind.

Clove has her signature vice-like grip on the handle, nails digging into the worn wood.

Each of Cato's calloused fingers on his right hand are wrapped around his sword, his left hand loosely gripping a spear.

-/-

It's a stalemate, an impasse.

All anyone can do is stare at the boy and girl on screen, stare like they're staring at each other, emotions coming and going with each blink of an eye.

The Capitol is waiting, and they're growing impatient. They want to see blood spilled and ligaments torn apart. They want proper repentance for the love story turned tragedy, for the star-crossed lovers buried amongst the stars.

-/-

One carefully timed look is all it takes for time to stop and the tension to be sliced with one of Clove's knives.

She runs to him, legs wrapped around his waist, head buried in his shoulder.

(_iloveyou hangs with each slow breath they take, silent as the ihateyou directed at the Capitol)_

He lets her kill him.

* * *

**II.**

"How are you going to do it?" she asks the night before the reaping, her hair spilled over the grass and her eyes tracing a constellation in the night sky.

It's dark, and she's glad she won't have to see his face when he responds, because she really doesn't want to know before they're shipped off into the heartland of Panem. She almost wants the element of surprise; it's more of a show that way.

"I'm not,_"_ he answers after a while, tucking a loose strand behind her ear and taking her hand in his.

She pulls her hand away and sharply responds with a "Then I'll do it." He laughs, the sound of which eclipsing crickets and worries filling and echoing in their heads.

_(not that they'll admit they're anxious about something they've dedicated their entire lives to)_

_-/-_

Somehow their joy and pride gets lost in translation along with a word that shouldn't exist for these very reasons. _(and they're just waiting to regret it)_

* * *

**III.**

"That's my death you're planning," she remarks in the arena, twirling the knife between her fingers; it's the habit that never was.

"Whoever sees her first gets to kill her," he replies, remaining adamant about the subject.

More by chance than by karma, Clove sees District Twelve first, but Cato decides to announce his claim on her death. No one except her dares to disagree, and he takes silent amusement in her perpetual defiance.

_(a constant__, or__ the always they'll never know)_

Cato agrees to Lover Boy's idea to leave the bitch in her precious tree; Clove knows he just wants another chance to kill her.

_(haven't they learned that life is the unwanted love child of wasted chances?)_

They wait for the third time, to put the adage "third time's the charm" to the test.

-/-

Numbers are slashed in two when their will to survive becomes doubled.

(_and suddenly everything seems to have changed, but nothing is really different)_

* * *

**IV.**

"They're going to get out alive, Cato," she almost whispers, unsure if she wants the cameras to pick up on her uncertainty, her barely-there but there apprehension.

"I should have sliced him again," he says, leaving the words in the air to die _like Peeta_.

"A slow and painful death is no fun if we don't have the pleasure of watching it," comes a moment later, when she decides the tip of her knife is sharp enough and presses it against her forefinger. A few drops of blood land on the blade of his sword. Eventually there will be more, but not quite yet.

"I'm afraid that wasn't my original intention," the reply comes almost sarcastically as it cuts through the cold of the night.

"Don't tell me it was sympathy for Lover Boy," Clove's eyes roll with the statement.

-/-

He scoffs and makes some comment about needing to hunt more tributes.

_(because it isn't the wisest choice to say he was hallucinating – i thought i was killing you instead)_

* * *

**V.**

He lets her kill him. _(the last cannon booming louder than the thrashing of her heart)_

She smiles just the slightest when she pulls the knife out of his neck.

* * *

(_author's notes:)  
_writing cato/clove is not easy; brought this ancient fic out of hibernation.  
this is my last fic before the new year, so hopefully next year features more fruitful writing.


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